


Personal Gold Mine

by hitokiri



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, Dean and Sam are really into Dean sucking Sam's breast milk, Lactating Sam Winchester, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Milking, Mpreg, Nipple Licking, Pet Names, Pregnant Sex, Top Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitokiri/pseuds/hitokiri
Summary: Sam's five months pregnant and he's just started lactating. He's so swollen with milk, the pressure on his breasts painful, that Dean helps him alleviate it. They're both a little too into it.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 397





	Personal Gold Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I know exactly _nothing_ about pregnancy, or lactation, or what is actually in the what to expect book... I winged this entire fic besides asking my sister an awkward question from when she was pregnant. God help me. This is the kinkiest thing I have ever written, and I write A/B/O fics with knotting. So.
> 
> I feel dirty.

Sam’s about five months along, give or take. His belly is barely showing what’s growing inside of him, but Dean lifts his shirt up every day to look for any changes in his little brother’s body. Always presses a gentle hand against the slowly stretching skin, spreads out his fingers and just _feels_. Sam’s hand always finds Dean’s hair, just holding on, allowing Dean to touch for as long as he needs to.

His little brother is beautiful, someone Dean will always cherish, but somehow Sam’s even _more_ beautiful. He’s positively glowing. He always thought women said that to other women in support -- just to make them feel better about the pregnancy aches and the cravings -- but seeing someone, _loving_ someone that’s pregnant... he gets it now. Because Sam is honest to god gorgeous with Dean’s child growing inside him.

“How you feelin’ this mornin’, baby?” he asks, mouth pressed against Sam’s barest baby bump, but his eyes are on Sam’s sleepy face. There’s barely a speed bump swelling his belly but Dean loves it all the same.  


Sam’s knuckles caress Dean’s cheek gently as he smiles down at him. “I’m okay,” he whispers, voice sleep raspy. “Just a little sore.”

That gets Dean sitting up worriedly. “Sore?” he worries. “Where? I didn’t hurt you, did--”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Sam hurries to calm Dean’s worry. “It wasn’t- it’s- it’s my chest. My chest is sore.” He demonstrates by gently rubbing his hand across his chest, hissing in a whine when he grazes a pec. “I haven’t looked yet but--”  


“Let me see.” He starts to pull at the hem of Sam’s shirt, prompting him to sit up and lift his arms so Dean can pull it over his head. before allowing him to lie back down. “Okay, let me- shit. Sammy...”  


“Dean?”  


“Sammy, you- you’ve got breasts.” It’s hard to keep his mouth from watering at the sight of Sam, bare-chested with prominently swollen pecs, raised like A cup tits. Smooth, perfect mounds that Dean wants to _touch_. His eyes have always migrated to asses -- the roundness, the gorgeous globes primed for grabbing, easy to squeeze and lift someone up for fucking -- but for some reason, Sammy, his nerdy little brother, with tits is the hottest thing Dean has ever laid his eyes on. “ _Fuck_.”  


He can’t take his eyes off the breasts before him until the sight is taken away from him. Sam’s arms fold across his chest, protective, embarrassed. Dean flicks his eyes up to his little brother’s face, takes note of how sexy he is flushed red from embarrassment. He reaches a hand up to cup Sam’s flushed cheek. “Hey,” he soothes, “It’s okay, baby brother, c’mon.” His hand moves back down so both hands can pry gently at Sam’s wrists, trying to pull his arms away from his chest. “Let me see, sweetheart.”

“Dean, it’s so weird.” Sam tightens his arms to try to hold his form, but loosens them on a whimper when he seems to put pressure on the soreness. “Oh god...”  


“Baby,” he compels, tugging again. “Let me see.” Sam’s arms loosen so Dean can finally pull them away with no resistance. “Good boy. I’m just gonna- Sam, this might hurt, but I need to see where the pain is coming from, okay? So I need you to relax. Can you do that for me?” Sam nods, closing his eyes in wait. Dean leans in for a tender kiss, smiling when Sam’s lips instantly part for him. “Breathe for me.”  


He pokes at a breast with a single finger, frowning at Sam’s immediate pained inhale. He shushes him as he moves his finger to a different spot, and another, and another. Sam’s reaction is the same for each different spot Dean puts pressure on. The closer he gets to Sam’s darkened, hard nipple, the more hurt the noises coming out of Sam’s mouth are. The whimper does him in and he stops pressing. There are tears in his eyes, but none have fallen yet. The pain has to be intense if it’s got Sammy about to cry.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay, shh, I won’t touch anymore, sweetheart, you’re okay...” He leans in to kiss each of Sam’s eyelids before pulling off the bed completely. Sam whines at the loss, but it’s not a pained whine. “Why don’t you take a nap, kiddo? I’m gonna get us some breakfast and maybe pick up a book on pregnancy. What was it? _What To_...”

“ _Expect When You’re Expecting_ ,” Sam whispers, finishing Dean’s thought, already sinking back into the mattress.

Dean grins at his nerdy little brother and kisses him on the temple, smoothing his hair aside. “That’s my favorite little nerd. Be right back.”  


Sam’s still asleep by the time Dean gets back with a cup of coffee for himself, lemon ginger tea for Sammy -- “Coffee is bad for the baby,” Sam had told him -- and breakfast platters from the local diner.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean declares, as he wakes Sam up with a kiss. “I got us breakfast. Lumberjack Meat Lovers’ for me, and a veggie egg white omelette for the expecting lady.” He laughs when Sam’s cloudy hazel eyes send a glare up at him. He kisses the frown off Sam’s face; he can never get enough kisses from Sammy. “After breakfast, we can read through the book and see what’s up with my A cup princess, huh?”  


“Shut up, Dean,” Sam whines, but gratefully accepts the styrofoam container with his omelette inside, and the paper cup of the tea Sam loves. “Did you get--”  


“C’mon, Sammy!” Dean teases, rooting around in his jacket pocket and pulling out two packets of honey he yoinked from the diner. “What kind of baby daddy would I be if I forgot the honey for my honey?”  


“I thought I said not to call yourself that.” Sam looks unimpressed. “And you’ve gotten sappier... if I wasn’t the pregnant one, I’d swear you were hormonal.”  


Dean settles down next to Sam on the bed and opens up his container, choosing to ignore Sam’s ‘hormonal’ comment. He’s just ecstatic that somehow, despite everything, The Powers That Be have granted this to them. They’ve deemed Sam and Dean suitable and deserving of being parents, and Dean knocked his precious little brother up. He’s grateful every day for this.

Before he can take a bite of sausage, Sam lets out a disgusted little groan. Dean looks to his right and Sam’s staring at Dean’s food. His styrofoam container is stuffed with bacon, ham, sausage, scrambled eggs with extra cheese, and greasy hash browns with extra onion. “Sammy?”

“That smells disgusting.”  


“Oh, come on.”  


“Dean.”  


Heaving a sigh, Dean closes his container, climbs off the bed and heads over to the tiny dining table in the motel to eat. Sam thanks him softly, smiling bright and wide at him, and Dean can’t hold his anger all that long. Not when Sam’s looking at him like that.

Dean uses it to his advantage, skimming through the pregnancy book. He finds the chapter on lactation and glues his eyes to it while he houses his meat and eggs and potatoes. Sam has less food than him, but he eats slower, savors every bite behind him.

The chapter offers good advice, explains to Dean why Sam’s chest is sore and why he suddenly grew breasts. Gives him pointers on how to alleviate the pressure.

After he’s done eating, he heads for the bathroom to soak a hand towel in warm water. Comes back out into the room to Sammy done with his breakfast and getting up to throw out the container. “Hey, no,” Dean says sternly, “I got that. Put this on your chest and relax.” He hands Sam the towel that’s just big enough to spread across each pec. Sam does as he’s told, no questions asked as always. Dean takes care of the trash and then slides back into bed with Sam. “So, the book told me what’s going on. You’re swollen with breast milk, to get ready for the baby.”

“Oh god, so I’m--” Sam frowns, looking down at the small mounds covered by the wet towel. “I’m going to have these for _months_? Dean,” he pleads, puppy dog eyes in full effect, “I can’t take this pain for _months_...”  


Dean kisses him softly, caressing his cheek. “Shh, sweetheart,” he soothes, “The book told me what we can do to get rid of the pressure. It just- it’ll hurt at first. You gotta trust me.”

“I do, Dean, you know I--” Dean cuts him off with a kiss.  


“Now, I need you to relax for me, okay? While the compress is loosening your muscles, I have to work the milk in your breast. I’ve gotta try to get some of it to come out. You’ll feel better, I promise.”  


“Okay.”  


“Good.” He spreads Sam’s legs so he can crawl in between them, get closer, more comfortable. He takes the pillow from his side of the bed and pulls Sam forward a little to prop it against the headboard to make Sam more comfortable. “Just relax and breathe, baby, it’s gonna hurt at first. You ready?” Sam nods and Dean slowly covers Sam’s breasts with each hand. Sam hisses in a breath, whining at the sudden pressure, both hands lifting to grasp Dean’s wrists. Dean shushes him, pressing slightly harder. “Let go, Sammy, it’s okay.”

Sam obeys, releasing his wrists slowly, and gently Dean kneads both breasts with his fingers, following circular patterns all the way from the outside of Sam’s breasts to the inside by Sam’s hard nipples. Little whimpering noises are falling from Sam’s mouth. Dean can see Sam’s hands white knuckling the bed sheets and Dean wants to make the pain stop _now_. He can’t stand seeing his boy in this much pain.  


He pulls his hands away long enough to remove the towel. It’s cooled down significantly and won’t be helping Sammy much anymore. His little tits are red and swollen and Dean feels so bad that his little brother is going through this, that _Dean_ is putting him through this. “You’re doing so good for me, Sammy, you know that?” he asks, proud of his baby boy. His fingers knead at the aching tits again, out then in, out then in. The pain doesn’t appear to be lessening and Dean think he’s just hurting Sam for no reason now, until...

“Shit, Sammy,” Dean breathes out a quiet gasp, eyes locked onto the pearl of milky white leaking from one of Sam’s pert nipples. It drips down the nipple, trailing down Sam’s darkened areola and down his swollen mound. His hands have stopped their kneading; Dean is mesmerized by the liquid that came out. He leans down without thinking, mouth opening.  


“Dean?”  


“Sammy,” Dean whispers, now less than an inch away from the trail of Sam’s lactation. “I have to--” He flicks his tongue out and laps it up. Sam draws in a gasp, both shocked and turned on at the same time, Dean can tell. He licks his way up Sam’s cute little A cup and teases around the areola before suckling the nipple it came from right into his mouth.  


“ _Dean_!” Sam cries out. Both of his hands fly out to grasp at Dean’s hair, trying to find purchase either to pull him away or to get him closer Dean can’t tell. Sam’s thighs close around Dean’s sides -- something Sam does when he’s so turned on he doesn’t know what to do with himself -- and Dean can feel his little brother’s prominent erection digging into his stomach. “Oh- oh, _god_ , Dean--”  


His hands start working on their own, kneading at Sam’s aching, swollen breasts, and Dean keeps his mouth latched onto the nipple like he struck gold. Another bead trickles and drops right into Dean’s mouth. He sucks at it, drawing a whimper from Sam’s lips. Sam’s fingers tighten as much as they can in Dean’s short hair and he smirks around the nipple he’s teasing with his tongue. His fingers continue their circular motions along the swollen flesh, working the milk towards the nipple that Dean’s latched onto. He couldn’t get much of a taste from two drops, but slowly, steadily, more starts to come out, squirting into his mouth. _This_ is the gold mine.

He moans around Sam’s nipple at the taste, suckling harder, prompting a low whimper to fall from Sam’s lips. He’s got both hands kneading at this breast now, _needing_ the taste of his little brother’s milk. It’s body warm and sweet, just like Sammy. It tastes exactly like Sammy. Dean can’t get enough.

“Dean, Dean, oh god, Dean, please...” Beneath him, Sam’s hips roll and his cock grinds itself into Dean’s clothed stomach. He can feel the precome starting to soak his shirt, through Sam’s thin pajama pants. He arches into Sam’s body, gaining friction to help get his baby brother off. If he can make him come, it might help him relieve the rest of the pressure in his supple breasts. “God, it’s so good, fuck, Dean, keep going... ah, _ah_!”  


The word ‘fuck’ coming from Sam’s mouth makes Dean cocky. He allows his teeth to graze the leaking nipple and Sam gasps. His hands move from Dean’s short hair down to Dean’s shirt. He starts tugging, running his hands down and then clawing his back on the way back up. Dean nips around Sam’s areola, growling, the vibration causing a tremor to fight its way through Sam’s body. He’s shaking beneath Dean like a live wire, ready to self destruct. He can hear his name chanted from his brother’s lips, loves the raspy sound of his name on Sam’s tongue. His dick is hard in his jeans, his hips piston against the mattress to get friction. If he doesn’t get to fuck Sam after this...

“St-stop, Dean...” Sam’s tugging on his hair again, getting him to lift from his left breast. “It’s- it’s too sensitive.” He looks down to admire the partially deflated mound. Sam’s skin has a dark mark circling it -- made by Dean’s greedy mouth -- and it looks tender, almost like it hurts worse than when they started. There’s still milk in there, Dean knows, because he’s still swollen with it, begging to be milked, but he doesn’t want to hurt his baby brother. He never wants to hurt his baby brother. He nods, gesturing to Sam’s right breast. Sam nods shakily, whispers, “Yeah, yes, please, big brother.”

His dick twitches in his jeans at the use of ‘big brother;’ it’s always set Dean off like a firecracker hearing Sammy call him that during sex. But while Dean is milking him? Suckling on his little tit and helping Sammy get off at the same time? Somehow it’s even fucking hotter.  


He latches on and treats it the same as the left one, kneading from the outside in until he gets the milk beading at his nipple and then dripping into Dean’s waiting, hungry mouth. It tastes just as good from this one as it did the other and Dean moans around it, suckling hard at the tender flesh. Sam’s a whimpering mess below him, clinging to Dean’s shirt, grinding his hips up. Dean’s not fairing any better, his dick straining in his jeans begging to be released, begging _for_ release. He needs inside Sammy.

His fingers pinch around the swollen flesh, kneading the milk to the center until milk is spilling into his mouth in uneven streams. He savors the taste with his tongue, lapping it up and teasing at the nipple giving him this great gift. Sam whines his name, sweaty hands trying to push and pull at his face. Dean’s dazed, hungry for the taste of Sam, that he ignores the pained whimper, keeps his suction until Sam tugs roughly at his ear. He pulls off with a growl, but settles at Sam’s quiet, “ _Hurts_ ,” and crawls up Sam’s body to kiss the lips he’d apparently been biting in his pleasure/pain.

“I’m so sorry, baby boy,” Dean soothes, sucking softly at the swollen bottom lip that Sam abused while Dean sucked his tits dry. He licks at the seam of his little brother’s pouting lips until Sam lets him inside. He shares Sam’s taste with him, encouraging Sammy to suck on his tongue for more of the taste.  


He pulls away just enough to speak against his lips, “Can I fuck you, Sammy?”

“God, yes.”  


Dean disrobes himself and Sam in record time before settling between Sam’s long legs again, grinding their hard cocks together. He loves the friction, rolling his hips roughly for a few moments before bringing a hand up to squeeze at one of Sam’s sensitive nipples. Sam cries out, back arching, and Dean shushes him, kissing his lips again. He gets what he needs when a little more milk squirts out. He coats his fingers with it and fingers Sam gently. Two fingers slip in perfectly, Sam’s legs parting to give Dean all the room he needs. “That’s it, baby, open up for me...”

He makes quick but efficient work of stretching his little brother, gets him loose and pliant and ready for Dean’s dick.

When he pulls his fingers out, he has to kiss Sam’s whine away to settle him down. While their mouths are attached he roots around in the night table drawer for the lube, coating his dick liberally before lining himself up at Sam’s winking pucker. He pecks the panting lips below as he presses the tip of his leaking cock to Sam’s hungry hole. They both inhale when Dean starts to push in slowly. He tries to go slow, he really does, but his primal need to claim Sam, to make him his all over again, despite the child growing inside Sam’s belly it’s still not enough. Sam needs to be completely and entirely _his_.

His hips piston forward, hard, and he bottoms out in one swift thrust. Sam cries out when the head of Dean’s dick hits his prostate dead on, and his ankles lock behind Dean’s back. He rolls his hips under Dean, squeezing his ass around the cock invading his stretched hole, and pulls him tight, making sure Dean’s dick grinds against his prostate. Dean hisses at the stimulation before he circles his hips to get that bundle of nerves inside Sammy _singing_ , then pulls back with a force he didn’t realize he had, only to jackhammer in and out of the perfect ass swallowing him whole.

They’re both vocal in their need, crying out their pleasure, but it’s when Dean feels his balls tighten that he bends down to latch his mouth back onto a nipple that’s just started leaking again that Dean feels Sam tighten almost impossibly around him.

He keeps fucking into Sam while his mouth takes what it wants from Sam’s supple, leaking breast. He can’t get enough of the taste, or the wet heat engulfing Dean’s dick. Dean’s name is bleeding over and over from Sam’s lips, a steady staccato that’s literal music to Dean’s ears. He briefly pulls off to latch onto the other nipple, enjoying the way Sam arches his chest into Dean’s face and grasps the back of his head to hold him tighter. Sam’s squeezing his dick, milking him for all he’s worth as Dean milks Sam’s perfect little tit. He explodes inside Sam’s warm passage as Sam’s nipple leaks a stream of milk right onto Dean’s waiting tongue.

Sam comes hard between them as Dean pulls his mouth away from his nipple, leaving a trail of saliva from his mouth to the nipple he just abused. Sam’s come covers their stomachs in white and Dean licks up what he can reach while his dick is still nestled inside his boy. Sam’s shaking beneath him, stomach trembling as Dean laps up Sam’s come. His nipples are swollen and purple from abuse, and his little tits have shrunk, but he knows they’ll be back soon. He’s looking forward to milking his baby brother all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, let me know!


End file.
